Leverage in between
by thosepreciouswalls
Summary: The way it all happened, in between and around the jobs. (Collection of tags for Leverage working it's way through season four.)
1. Chapter 1

AN: I had a lot of fun doing the tag for The Big Bang Job and has as such decided to keep going. Currently I'm working my way from s4e01 and forward. My goal will be to post once a week, but we'll see how that works out. It'll be a mix of missing scenes (like this one) and random stream of consciousness character studies. Wordcount is planned be somewhere between 200 and 1500 words. Here we go:

Missing scene from The Long Way Down Job (s04e01), in the crevasse. The beginning and end of this (italics) is taken from the show, but there was quite a gap in between the two that I felt was left out. Here's my take on that.

.oOo.

" _No! This is what we're supposed to do. We're supposed to get him back to his wife. Nate would do it. Sophie would do it._ Hardison _would do it." Parker takes a shaky breath. "They would do the right thing. I want to do the right thing." Her raised voice echoes of the rock and ice around her, it sounds brittle._

 _Eliot's headlamp is in Parker's eyes, efficiently hiding his features. As her own has been knocked askew by the recent fall she knows she haven't got the same protection. Instead she turns away and starts coiling the snapped rope to hide the fact that tears are pooling in her eyes._

During her years with the team, they've never seen her cry. Not really. It had been close that time with the psychic, but she'd gotten out before the first tear had escaped her control and hadn't come back until she'd been sure she could keep them in her eyes again. For other people that might not be a huge difference, if the tears are in the eyes or on the cheeks, but it is to Parker.

"Parker, stop." Eliot says, but she ignores him. She can hear him moving behind her but is still surprised as the rope gets wrenched from her hands. "Stop!" Eliot repeats, and he sounds angry with her. The stupid light is in her eyes again as she tries to take the rope back. "Dammit Parker, you will kill us."

She gives up the fight about the rope only because she needs to get distance between them. The space is too confined to offer any privacy, but she finds a spot of wall as far from Eliot and Alan as possible and stands to face it. "We can't leave him here." It starts out angry but ends in a sob. Parker hates the fact that it gives away her crying.

The helmet feels like it's crushing her head and she rips it off, fully intending to throw it across the open air into one of the other walls. Her intelligence wins out and stops the motion. Not only might it cause the ice to cave in, she is probably going to need it before she's out of here and back at camp.

It's stupid, getting her face wet with tears and snot in this cold. It exponentially increases the risk of frostbite. Eliot comes up next to her and sits down with his back against the wall. Another thing that will speed up the loss of body heat. He dismounts his headlamp and directs the ray at a block of ice to get an ambient light that allows them to see each other.

"Parker," Eliot says, and it's softer than his usual voice. "Talk to me? I need to understand what's going on here." In the corner of her eye Parker can see him looking up at her, but she refuses to meet his eyes. Instead she puts her arm on the wall and presses her eyes and forehead against it.

She wants to trust him. She _does_ trust him, but everything's a mess and she has no idea how to put it in words. Communicating is hard, and she never had much need for it before the team. Feelings are something Parker has learnt to bury and never look at again, but she's finding that harder and harder to do so. Or possibly, she's less inclined to.

There's a lot Parker doesn't know about relationships. She recognizes this. From what she's gathered it's about trusting each other, sharing things with each other – something she's desperately inexperienced with – and wanting each other around. No one has ever wanted her around before. Not until her team.

Nate has been drinking too much for Parker to really, fully, trust him. Sophie tried to con them, and she once left them behind. But it's Eliot who's sitting next to her now, and neither him nor Hardison has ever left her behind, let her down, used her, hurt her, or any of the other things she's expecting people to do.

The waterproofed fabrics of her jacket and gloves are doing nothing to soak up Parker's tears, but the balaclava she wears around her neck comes up far enough to use. "I have to be good enough." Parker tries to explain, hashing her feelings out as she starts to put words on them. By now it's pointless to try to hide her crying from Eliot so she sits down next to him by the wall, less than a foot of chilly air between them.

"If Hardison is ever going to…" Parker can't say either of the l-words, not even the small one.

"He's a good guy, you know?" She says instead. Eliot makes a sound that's probably agreement, it's hard to know when she refuses to look at him. "And good people wants other good people, who do the right thing…" Parker feels choked from the sobs, and she had no idea it is this hard to speak and cry at the same time. Her voice sounds small and high pitched in her ears. "If I'm not the kind of person who does the right thing, then how can Hardison want _me_?"

It hurts to admit it. A lot. But they might die down here, and Eliot asked, and she hadn't even known what she was saying before it was already in the air. "I think…" Eliot says and it's uncharacteristically cautious. "…that Hardison already knows you?"

Since it's posed like a question Parker nods. "And I know," Eliot continues, "that he already wants you, okay?"

"How do you know that?" Parker can't help but ask.

"It's all over him." She can hear from his voice that Eliot's smiling. "It's in the way he looks at you, how he smiles at you, the way he brightens whenever you step into the room… Trust me Parker, he likes you, just the way you are."

A warm feeling is finding its way into Parker's chest, and it helps chase the crying away. As it spreads she leans across the gap between them to rest her head against Eliot's shoulder for a few seconds. She can feel it moving with his breath. "Thank you." She whispers, low enough to pretend she said nothing but high enough she knows Eliot hears.

"Let's get ready to get out of here." Parker says as she stands, offering a hand to pull Eliot up. He takes it.

Together they untie the makeshift rope-harness around Alan and sets him up in a way that feels more dignified. _"Hey," Eliot says as they're almost done. He waves his light in Parker's eyes then turn it on himself so she can see his face. "It's a good thing it was us."_

" _Because we'd leave him?" Parker asks him._

 _Eliot flips the torch around and uses it's back to scratch his chin. "Because they would have kept trying," he says, "and they would have frozen to death right next to him, especially Hardison. So it was a good thing it was us."_

It's a point Parker can admit to, even if it still hurts just a little bit to be that person. The important thing, though, is that Hardison isn't here, and she and Eliot will do whatever it takes to get back to him.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Part 2 - The 10 Li'l Grifters Job.

This chapter turned out short. Therefore I publish it now and plan to post the next on Sunday (or Monday). I've never really done character studies before, so please let me know what you think.

.oOo.

Eliot has just about had it. How can it be that he's supposed to take anything Nate says like it's an absolute truth when it never goes the other way around? When Eliot says he needs a week to prep if he's going to have an emergency exit for them off the island, he means it. To have Nate tell him now it's unacceptable to not have one is for him to disrespect everything Eliot does. If no one listens when he lifts security issues, how can he possibly keep them safe?

Lately Nate has instated a new rule. "Don't bring up a problem unless you've got a fix." It's the kind of reasoning that makes Eliot balk and want to leave the team. He might have already, if it wasn't for the fact that Nate would probably get one of the others killed within a month. _Especially_ with this new rule in play.

Maybe it's not so strange then, that Eliot cannot immediately rule out the possibility that Nate has committed murder. If Nate's so certain of his own superiority in comparison to his team, what's to say he won't one day literally take the role of judge, jury, and executioner? Not that Eliot is in a position to condemn anyone who does, but he's here to get away from all of that. To make up for his past, not add to it.

Nate has lifted them all up, shown them what they can accomplish together, made them remember how good it can feel to help people. Eliot's hooked on it, and he knows it. He's also long past the point where he can let the others slip away without caring. So, he sticks around, tells himself he can make it through just one more job. Because leaving the others behind just isn't an option, not anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Missing scene for The 15 Minutes Job. It starts at the end of the following conversation in the office:

 _Eliot: I don't know why I'm sitting here listening to a new plan.  
Parker: Well, first one's not going all that well.  
Sophie: This playing with fame thing, it's reckless.  
Eliot: You're not controlling the mark, we're operating without a net, somebody is gonna get hurt._

 _Nate: Eliot, why don't you take the rest of the job off?_

.oOo.

"Eliot, why don't you take the rest of the job off?" Nate tells Eliot, and Hardison watches how Eliot and Parker leave. Their motions are too controlled for it to be said they storm out, the door closing smoothly behind Parker as she exits, but it's as close to it as they're ever likely to get.

Hardison finishes his check of the negative and gives his report to Nate feeling his heartbeat pound against his ribcage. It doesn't pass him by that Sophie never takes a stand for Eliot, but far be it from Hardison to follow her lead. He puts the sheet and the magnifying glass down. "Oh, and Nate?" He says, turning around so that he's facing the man directly. "You put Eliot on the bench for trying to protect us; me and Parker will sit our asses down right next to him. Just so you know."

Without giving Nate the time to answer Hardison turns around and leaves the apartment. He does slam the door.

In the stairway Hardison has to stop for a moment with a hand to the wall and take some calming breaths. He is in no way regretting what he said, even if he feels a slight trepidation about telling Parker he dragged her into it. Even so he knows this has the risk of going very bad, very fast. He's picked his side, and he stands by it, but it would be preferable if it didn't rip their team to shreds. Hardison doesn't know what he is if there's no Leverage team to be part of anymore.

Eliot and Parker are just stopping in a street corner two blocks away when Hardison exits the building, cell phone in hand. It is a breach of privacy to track them like this, but he thinks the situation might warrant some extraordinary measures. When he catches up to them they're standing a couple of yards into the more deserted side street. Eliot is leaning with his hands against a basement apartment handrail and his head folded forward, hair obscuring his face. Parker stands next to him, saying something that Hardison can't make out.

"Hey guys." Hardison says, making his presence known. Parker looks at him as he takes up position on the opposite side of Eliot. The man looks tense, Hardison thinks, but it's hard to really see his lines behind the leather jacket and hair. "You good?"

The question earns him a glare. "Yeah Hardison, fantastic." Eliot answers. "What do you think, huh?" He's angry, that much is clear. Then again, he has every right to be. Just maybe not at Hardison.

"Okay," Hardison concedes, because he doesn't need to be fighting on two fronts. "Stupid question, I get it." He sighs, then continues before he loses his nerve. "Anyway, I told Nate that we're a package deal. He tosses you out, me and Parker will go with you." He looks between them as he says it, afraid that Parker will take offence he took the liberty to speak for her as well. Given her smile he doesn't think she does.

"Really?" Eliot asks, head moving back and forth as he looks between Hardison and Parker. He doesn't even sound annoyed. If Hardison didn't know better he could think he just stunned Eliot.

"Really." Parker confirms, and pokes Eliot in the arm in a way that must hurt. Eliot lets out a huffing breath and tilts his head back, allowing him to see the starless sky. There's something unusual in his face that Hardison can't put his finger on. He has trouble focusing through the relief that Parker is obviously not angry with him.

"Thank you." Eliot finally says, looking back down to meet their eyes.

"You're our hitter." Parker says, smiling slightly yet surprisingly serious. "We're not doing this without you. You're the one we trust to keep us safe."

"Making it damn hard for me too, don't you?" Eliot says. To an outsider it would sound annoyed, but Hardison can hear what's underneath the tone. He knows Parker can too.

Before either of them has the time to say anything else Hardison's phone rings. The display shows it's Sophie. He shows it to the others before picking up.

"Yeah?" He says, trying to sound neutral.

"You with Eliot and Parker?" Sophie's voice is normal, calm, unconcerned, which says nothing since it's her.

"Yeah." Hardison confirms, seeing no point in keeping that a secret.

"Okay," Sophie says. "Nate's got a plan, but we're only going through with it if everyone approves. Will you come back in so we can discuss it?"

Hardison looks over at Eliot and Parker, trusting that the conversation has carried in the silence. Parker looks at Eliot, who shrugs in a way that can only be interpreted as agreement.

"Sure," Hardison answers out loud, "but no promises until we hear what it is." He doesn't want Nate to think he's already got them back, because he hasn't. He'll get a chance though, and hopefully he'll remember this and not try to push either of them out ever again. After all, all five of them are needed to make this work.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Just a little piece of what's going through Parker's head at the end of s04e04 – The Van Gogh Job. The next one will be longer, I promise.  
Also, thank you so much for your reviews, likes, and follows! I'm bad at responing to reviews directly (like you deserve) but know that they mean the world to me. I promise I read and take into account what you write, so please tell me what you think.

.oOo.

"Don't waste time." Charlie tells Parker, before he lets her leave. She smiles. Both at the warmth of his words and at Hardison waiting for her in the doorway. It's not fake in any way. She knows what Charlie says is true, knows that Hardison is right there, waiting.

Parker smiles for the warmth that nestles in her at the thought of the kind of love Charlie and Dorothy had, the kind people have in fairytales. She smiles because she wants that, more than she's ever imagined. And she smiles to hide the place deep inside her, the broken place, that hurts so much she can hardly breath.

Hardison feels like home. He feels like safety and the quiet humming in an airshaft, the calm needed to pass through lasers, and the rush of nerves of an unexpected security guard passing right beneath her. Parker wants that, wants his arms around her and all those good things making her feel soft inside.

The problem is, she's certain that she's better at feeling the bad stuff than the good. She almost cried again when Charlie told her about leaving Dorothy behind, and it's uncomfortably close in time to her breakdown not two months ago. It's apparently easier for her to feel sadness, worry, and that thing she doesn't know what it is – where it feels like strong wind presses against her from all sides – than it is to feel happiness and love. That in itself feels unfair; that it's easier to lose control of the hurtful feelings than the nice ones.

From other people, books, and movies Parker has learnt how it's supposed to be. She's supposed to have butterflies in her stomach, experience some kind of heat, burning, or sparks, loose her ability to speak, and most importantly feel an overwhelming physical attraction. The fact that she doesn't feel any of those things must mean something is wrong. Probably with her since she's never felt them.

What Parker has to offer cannot possibly be enough. Obviously, she's not in love the way she's supposed to be. Doesn't want Hardison like she should. Charlie tells her not to waste time, and she doesn't want to. She wants Hardison close to her, wants to get to know him, tell him her secrets and get his in return. She wants that warm, safe, flowing feeling that he brings. It's just not enough. Hardison deserves someone who wants him the right way, with sparks and butterflies and overall passion. Knowing that hurts.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Here's the next chapter. Just a little team meeting set after The Hot Potato Job. It's not as proof-read as I would like but it'll have to do. For the next couple of chapters I hope to be able to post more than once a week, but it mostly depends on my beta at this point. I'll do what I can though.

PS: Thanks a lot for the feedback for the last chapter. You're all amazing!

.oOo.

Nate calls them together the next morning, early enough that Hardison feels like he's sleepwalking. For regular office workers it's lunchtime, but for extraordinary hackers (who's been up all night cleaning up after the last job, but since when does anyone appreciate that?) it's way too early for meetings. At least Sophie has beat him to HQ and started up coffee. (Later, when he's more awake, Hardison will wonder about that.)

"I guess you've seen the news?" Nate says when they're all present, nursing cups of coffee around the dinner table. He's freshly showered and not nearly as hung over as Hardison would expect the morning after the night before.

"Looks like we got played." Eliot says, and Hardison notes he is the only one who seems fully awake.

"Was there a diamond in the potato?" Parker asks, perking up at the thought.

"No, Parker, no diamond." Sophie manages to nip that discussion in the bud. "But it's obvious someone used us to get rid of Saunders and get West into his spot."

"Hardison?" Nate asks, looking at him over his coffee.

"Look…" Hardison can hear he sounds as tired as he is. "I checked, and double checked, and checked again yesterday when the news got out. This place is clean."

"Yeah?" Eliot challenges him. "You sure about that? Because, to me, it looks like…"

"Enough." Nate hardly raises his voice, but it cuts through anyway. Hardison is grateful, he's questioning himself enough as it is. "No," Nate continues, "they didn't listen in. They didn't need to, did they? It was easy to guess what would happen once we took the job; we'd push the CEO out. We never even realized we were being played."

Silence falls for a short moment, but with them all present it doesn't last longer than that. "Emily seemed genuine though…" Sophie says, and it's not quite a question. Hardison thinks about all the research he's done and wonders if he missed something.

"She probably was." Nate agrees. "But if they knew our MO they might have put pressure on her deliberately, even tipped her off about us."

It's a fair point, if slightly disturbing. Combined with the bugs in the office Hardison thinks it might even be scary. Someone's been listening to them, manipulating them. God knows what it could all lead to in the end.

Parker has a pensive look on her face. "Can't we just take her out again?" She says. "Make sure it sticks this time? Isn't there a lot of letters left?" She's looking to Nate with her last question, and Hardison realizes how fluent in Parker they all must have become to even understand it.

"No letters left Parker." Nate answers reluctantly. "We've shown all our faces, there's nothing to start over with." Parker hums but doesn't look convinced.

"It's just the way it is now." Sophie leans her head on her hand as she speaks. "But we'll have to be more careful from here on."

They all agree to that, verbally or by nodding. "On the upside," Hardison tells them, smiling at this new realization, "it could mean we're getting a reputation."

"Really Hardison?" Eliot counters, faster than a ping-pong player. "How is that a good thing?"

A sly smile is finding its way onto Parker's face. "Come on Sparky." She jabs at Eliot with a finger, but he deflects it easily. "Off course it's a good thing. It means they're beginning to understand they should be scared."

This latest job has definitely been a total bust, Hardison thinks as they're breaking up the meeting and moving out. But they will learn from it. Also, if they've been scaring big corporate giants who's thought for too long they're untouchable? There's a certain thrill in that.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: This time we've got a missing scene for The Carnival Job (s04e06). While the last chapter was hard, this one was easy and fun to write. It's one of the episodes I've been waiting for, along with The Grave Danger Job which will be next chapter. They are amazing episodes!

.oOo.

Hardison hates it. It overshadows any good feelings he has about finishing the job. Even Molly in her father's arms can't make a dent in the suffocating feeling of helplessness as he watches Eliot struggle across the parking lot.

It has never been verbalized, the fact that they're to leave Eliot be if he's injured. All the same it's crystal clear to them all that's how it is. Eliot never mentions any lasting effects of his part of the job, and they're not supposed to do it either. Parker has gotten the most leeway, poking at bruises and reminding Eliot that she knows, that they all know, but it never goes further than that.

The details of what happened to Eliot is still unclear. Hardison only knows he heard the sounds of a fight, a sharp clonk, and then absolutely nothing from their hitter. He guesses blunt force trauma to the head, but he'll confirm with the security footage as soon as he can. The minutes that Eliot was unresponsive are some of the worst in Hardison's life. There had been no way for him to go after his friend, not without endangering the lives of Molly, Parker and Nate. Eliot could have been dying or already dead, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

But Eliot woke up. He took out two more guys, got Molly, and made his way back to them. Hardison wants to hug Eliot, and cry, and hug him again. He doesn't want to pretend it's all good and get behind the wheel of Lucille like nothing happened. Yet that is exactly what he does.

Nate and Sophie ride in the back, and it feels slightly backwards with the kids in the front seat. No one even thinks of contending Eliot's silent claim of shotgun, and Parker worms her lithe form to the slim middle seat via the driver's side. A careful silence reigns during the short trip up to the Connell's house and Hardison has never been so aware of every bump in the road, every turn he makes.

"Mass General?" Nate questions as he and Sophie are about to switch to the car they left at the house when things went sideways.

Hardison is about to agree when Eliot speaks for the first time since handing Molly over to her father. "No," he says. It's weary, but adamant. They all look at him, but he keeps his face turned forward.

"Okay," Hardison says, because which ER is not important, just that they go. "So where to?"

"Home." Eliot says, and that is so far from what Hardison was thinking he just blinks and stares stupidly at the hitter.

"Eliot, you have to let us take you to a hospital." It's not as calm as it should be, coming from Sophie. All she gets in response is a stony silence.

There's an acute pressure in Hardison's stomach, like something needs to get out. He's not sure if it's vomit or anger, or tears. In his head he keeps hearing blows hitting skin, grunts of pain, and the harsh sounds of air being knocked out of Eliot's lungs. How is he supposed to pretend like this is nothing? With Eliot sitting so close to him, blood on his face and hands, folded in on himself in a way that speaks of numerous pains.

"It's not…" Nate starts, trying to reason, but he gets cut off.

"No. N. O. It's not a difficult word." Eliot speaks between clenched teeth, diamond sharp with a promise of pain to anyone opposing him. "I don't need a bunch of doctors telling me things I already know."

"Alright," Parker says, and her tone dares them to disagree with her. Maybe, Hardison thinks, this is one of those things where she and Eliot is separate from the rest of them, and Parker gets something he doesn't.

Or maybe, Parker just listens better than they do.

The added sag to Eliot's posture tells Hardison how tense he's been. It's like Parker's concession to let him go home cuts the last of the strings holding him up. "No hospital," Parker continues, "but you're coming back to the office with us. If you don't have everything you need there I'll go steal it for you."

For a split second Eliot looks like he's going to protest, but it washes away and he's back to weariness. Parker's offer to steal stuff is her way of saying she cares, and maybe that's what gets to him. "Whatever." He says and leans his head against the window.

"You'd tell us though?" Sophie makes a contained motion, like she's stopping herself from reaching out. "If you needed a hospital, you'd tell us?"

It feels to Hardison like they're all holding a collective breath waiting for the answer. Eliot lifts his head slightly to glance at the four of them, then puts it back against the glass. "Yeah," he says. Hardison would punch the air and whoop at that small victory if he wasn't so focused on keeping the mess in his stomach inside.

They split up and make their ways back to the office. The silence in Lucille has lost forty percent of its thickness and feels almost relaxed. Eliot is asleep, or pretending to be.

Eliot does this. When he's mostly okay he grumbles and complains and tells them how he was _hit by a car, dammit_ , but there's none of that if he's actually hurting. Eliot is like an injured animal; biting, scratching and kicking anyone who tries to come close enough to help him. Often that means people miss the reason behind the behavior, mistaking it for anger. Hardison has seen it in Eliot a couple of times by now, the latest occasion during the clusterfuck with Moreau. He still hasn't figured out a way around it.

Walking next to his stumbling, disoriented friend from the car through the residential entrance and up the stairs leaves crescent red marks in Hardison's palms from where his nails dig into his skin. He should be right next to Eliot, helping him, but has been told harshly to "stop hovering" before Eliot even got out of the car.

Sophie and Nate are right inside the door when they enter, pretending not to be anxiously waiting. One look at their carefully masked worry gives Hardison a startling insight into Eliot's aversion to the situation. The only one among them who acts like Eliot isn't going to keel over any second is Parker, who's already in the kitchen serving herself cereal.

Before any of the others can find their voice Hardison tries to set the bar. "Seriously man," he says, trying to keep his voice in its regular teasing tone. "You look like shit, you'd better go clean up before the client gets here or you're going to scare people." Hardison can hear himself being slightly off but is still proud to manage it at all.

There's a softening around Eliot's eyes that might be the beginning of a smile. Even so he glares at Hardison. "What?" Eliot says, and it's not as quick as usual but enough to make Hardison relax a little. "You're going there? Really?"

"Let us know if you need anything." Sophie says, breaking up any discussion before it can start. She makes sure to catch Eliot's eye for a second, smiling softly when she finds whatever she needs. Eliot makes a sound that could mean anything, and limps through the door leading to the adjacent apartment they've joined with this one.

While the hitter is gone they speak in low tones, making sure they can hear if anything happens to Eliot. Nothing does, as far as they can tell. He emerges twenty minutes later, dressed in clean clothes and with his knuckles wrapped in a white package. There are grazes on his face, but they look smaller with the blood washed away. In the big hoodie Eliot looks uncannily fragile, and Hardison has to remind himself Eliot took out several men – one of them a high-class hitter – in this state.

Eliot glances at the time. "Client's here in five minutes," he says, "and I'm the only one who's changed?" They all look at each other, and scramble to freshen up and get clean clothes themselves before going downstairs. Hardison is sort of happy for the distraction.


	7. Chapter 7

[Skriv här]

AN: This turned out long, but I don't mind and hopefully you won't either. Missing scene for 4.07 – The Grave Danger Job. Thanks to anyone who's reviewed since last time. You're amazing!

.oOo.

The office feels weird. Like coming home from a long holiday. Or the opposite of that. Eliot can't find the right words for it. Everything is exactly like it was when they got the call, and everything is different.

His ability to shut down emotions and focus on the job is what has allowed for Eliot to be what he is. He had been aware of Hardison's time running out, the odds of them not saving him, but he hadn't felt it. There was a job to do. The ticking clock was nothing but a deadline. Until they pulled Hardison from that grave, deadline met, job done, and it all caught up with him. Like a blast wave after thinking he's cleared an explosion. Even now, over an hour after they left the graveyard, traces of vertigo remain.

Today, they were minutes at the most from losing Hardison forever. The same argument could be made for what Eliot in his head has dubbed 'the incident with Moreau', but in fact they are nothing alike. Eliot could see him then, could decide to go after him. He didn't have to hear Hardison's panicked voice over the comms, knowing that they might not find him in time. With Moreau, they didn't listen to Hardison take the breath that might be his last.

Nate has directed Hardison to his computer, playing Tetris. He's on a level fast enough to give Eliot a headache just from watching, so he doesn't. The studies showing that playing Tetris shortly after a traumatizing event can lessen the amount of flashbacks are relatively new, but Eliot's read about them. It's hard not to wonder if that knowledge would have made a difference for him, way back when. Hopefully it does for Hardison.

They are all shaken. The words they speak pretend to be normal but are too soft. Parker is on the stairs, silently looking out the window, and the fact that she's around at all says more than it should. Eliot busies himself with cooking, the familiar feeling of peeling and slicing helping to calm his mind.

Eliot has lost people before, lots of them. Army brothers and sisters he gained on foreign soil that never made it home. Yet the circumstances had been different then, and the stakes had been clear. _He'd_ been different then too. This attack was a strike of lightning out of a clear sky. It shouldn't have happened. But it did, and they will all need some time to come to terms with that. Maybe Hardison shouldn't be the only one playing Tetris.

After pushing her vegetables around her plate for half an hour Parker slips out. None of them comment on it. Hardison has eaten half a plate of food, which Eliot takes as a win, and is joining their regular easy banter. It's a pretended normalcy, but it's a step on the way. Maybe they'll come out okay on the other side after all.

"I should get going." Hardison says not an hour later, just as the falling darkness outside is getting noticeable. He glances at Eliot as he speaks.

There's a lot of room for interpretation. The glance could mean absolutely nothing, but Eliot doesn't think so. It might be him reading what he wants into the exchange, because at least to himself Eliot can admit he might not be prepared to let Hardison out of his sight yet. Eliot should have been there to stop them from taking Hardison, and as irrational as it is he still feels he needs to make sure the younger man makes it home safely.

"I'll drive you." Eliot offers, hoping Hardison will pick up that it's not really a question.

Hardison shrugs. "As long as you'll pick me up on the way in tomorrow," he says. "I intend to use tomorrow to single-mindedly destroy these people, so you better have a plan for that." The last part is directed at Nate.

"I might have an angle or two. We'll make it happen." Nate slaps Hardison on the shoulder in something that might wish it was a hug.

Sophie isn't as shy and wraps her arms around Hardison for a few seconds. When they break apart she takes the time to look him in the eye. "Call us if you need anything," she says. "Any time." She only gets a nod in response.

The car drive is done in silence. Talking has never been Eliot's strong suit, but it should be Hardison's. It makes Eliot realize how used he is to Hardison being the one to start the discussions. Instead the hacker leans back against his seat, watching the streets pass them by. A mere three weeks have passed since they were going home from the carnival, roles reversed but the quality of the silence the same.

"What now, Eliot?" Hardison asks as they're about to enter his neighborhood. "What do I do now?" His voice is gruff, like it hasn't been used in a few days.

Eliot has no idea what to say to that. It's not like he's some poster boy of handling your shit with dignity. Telling Hardison exactly why he sleeps no more than three hours a night is not what this day needs. He also can't tell Hardison he'd gotten out of his first, worst, imprisonment in Myanmar and hadn't even waited for his body to heal before throwing himself back in the field. That he'd left the government that had left him and started working for the people who had brought that prison down. Sometimes he wonders how his life would have turned out if he'd dared to go back home to Amy instead.

"I might be out on a limb here," Hardison continues, the silence having stretched too long. "But I'm having this feeling you've been in some real crappy places."

Flinching is a tell Eliot has long since made himself unlearn. Instead he takes a slow breath.

"Dammit Hardison," Eliot says, and it comes out harsher than he meant it to. "It's not like I've done any of this shit the right way. Google should provide you with better intel than I can." Sliding the car into a parking space outside Hardison's apartment spares Eliot of having to look at the man himself.

"Sorry… I'm sorry… I just…" Hardison's voice sounds scared, or something. The shame that comes from that makes Eliot even less inclined to look at him.

Letting go of the steering wheel Eliot folds his hands in his lap for a second before bringing them up to intertwine behind his neck. Hardison has already taken off his seatbelt and is moving to open the door. The time to figure out how to make this right is running out.

"Look," Eliot says. He feels Hardison's eyes on him but uses his arms as an excuse for not turning to face him. "When you learn about horses and riding there's this thing, right? Whenever you fall off, or get thrown off, you get back up in the saddle. So, for me it's not been just an idiom, it's been a real thing you do. You fall off, you get up, and you get back in the saddle. Right away, because otherwise you risk getting scared of it."

A quick glance to Eliot's right show him Hardison's looking at him, frozen in place with his hand on the door handle. "Guess I just stuck to the habit, later." Eliot continues, making sure to keep away from details. "Never wanted to give them more control over me than necessary."

"Okay, yeah, maybe I can do that." There's something shaky in Hardison's voice as he speaks, but even lowering his arms and looking at his friend Eliot can't tell exactly what it is. Fear probably, or trepidation, but also decisiveness. "And revenge," Hardison says, voice steadier. "I'm definitely doing revenge."

Eliot smiles at that. "Yeah," he agrees, "revenge is also good."

"Hey," Eliot then adds, before they lose the topic. "Just remember that you've got a lot of options here that I didn't have. If you need help you can get it. They're called professionals for a reason." Eliot himself might never be able to talk about things like that, there is too much guilt and darkness. That doesn't mean he thinks it isn't a good idea for other people.

"Really?" Hardison questions, and there's a cheeky smile on his face. "I though real men suffered in silence?"

"Seriously? It's the 21th century; real men do what it takes to stay functional, and…" Eliot stabs a finger at Hardison. "they do their part at home, so you'd better start learning how to cook."

"Nah man," Hardison says. "That's why we have take-out, and you. I can do dusting and stuff."

There's nothing Eliot can say to that, so he doesn't. After a few seconds Hardison speaks up again. "I should get going," he says for the second time that night. "No point sitting in the parking lot all night." Again, Eliot wonders if what he hears is actually there of if it's just an excuse for what he's saying next.

"You want company?" He asks, watching Hardison for tells but not finding anything to neither confirm nor deny his thesis.

Hardison nods before he speaks. "Yeah, I think so."

Together they ride the elevator to Hardison's floor. They'd taken the stairs to and from the office, but it is Hardison leading the way now as well, muttering under his breath about saddles and not letting them stop him. In the cabin he carefully breaths in through his nose before letting the air out slowly. He keeps from visibly freaking out and Eliot is proud for him in some strange way.

The apartment Hardison calls home is a two bedrooms typical bachelor pad which Eliot has never before had a reason to visit. He can't help but find it odd that, even though he knows where each member of the team lives, this is the first time he's been at anybody's place but Nate's. And Nate's living in the office. Then again, they spend a lot of time together on the job, at the office, and at the bar - not much else has been needed.

While Hardison gets them beers from his understocked kitchen Eliot sends a quick text to Parker. _At Hardison's, why don't you come over?_ Then Hardison is back and Eliot pretends he did no such thing. What Hardison doesn't know won't hurt him in case Parker is a no-show.

The second bedroom is filled with computers and screens and technical geeky stuff, but the tv is in the living room. They sink into the corners of a huge, surprisingly comfortable, sofa and Hardison sifts through the channels ending up on a Die Hard marathon that's only just begun. For the sake of both their sanities they watch the movie in silence, knowing that if they start pointing out stupid things about the plot or effects there will be no stopping.

Die Hard 2 has only just begun when there's a tap on the window. The fact that they're on the seventh floor apparently means little to Parker. Eliot can't help but smile slightly as Hardison gets up to let her in. It's good that she came, he thinks they both need it.

Parker gracefully slips into Hardison's old spot just before he has time to sit back down. He squawks indignantly but she says it's warm and he lets her keep it, sitting instead in between her and Eliot. Eliot wonders how long she was outside the window before deciding to join them, but he doesn't ask. He probably doesn't want to know.

By the end of the movie both Parker and Hardison are asleep. She is curled awkwardly against the armrest and he has listed over to lean against her. Eliot rises carefully and gets them a blanket before grabbing himself a new beer and the remote to turn down the volume. Sitting back down it strikes him he's probably meant to head home at this point, but he can't bring himself to leave them. Not tonight.

What should be an awkward third-wheel thing simply isn't. Seeing them together like this feels nothing but good. Like a pocket of calm is created in the storm still raging inside Eliot after the day. He wants them to have this, even if it should turn out to be at his expense. They're like siblings to him, the way real siblings never are. Eliot and his actual sister doesn't have a close relationship, never had. Biological families are just people forced together by genetics, as opposed to by choice. No matter how the team started, Eliot has been choosing them freely for a long time now, and so far they've been choosing him too. If it's too good to last, he can at least make the most of it in the time he gets.

So, Eliot stays, watching muted crappy movies. He won't sleep, not with other people around, but he might doze lightly for a few hours later if he gets too tired. During the night he'll keep them safe, be around to discreetly wake them if nightmares get them. In the morning he can see if Hardison has anything in that kitchen of his that will make a decent breakfast before they head back to the office. That is more than enough until they join up with Nate and Sophie to make Javier pay for what he did.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: 4.08 – The Boiler Room Job, Character study (or something like it) for Hardison. Just a little way of putting last episode's events to rest I guess.

.oOo.

Hardison is back on the con. It's only a few weeks since he was buried, and Nate would never have forced this on him, but he's getting back in the saddle. It's worked better than expected so far.

He slept fitfully the first night after they saved him (the saving being the bit he has decided to focus on). He gasped awake searching for air only once but woke many times, drifting in between his couch and memories of the casket. Yet every time he opened his eyes he caught the blue light of the tv reflecting in Eliot's eyes and felt Parker move slightly against him, and it lulled him back to sleep.

Since bringing Javier down things has been going progressively better. He sleeps more, alone again, and remembers less dreams. He rides elevators and uses cramped public bathrooms and stands in the shower stall a few minutes longer than absolutely necessary. He's getting help. There's still a while to go before accepting even the thought of caving, or crawling through airducts, or other stupid stuff like that, but they've never been his favorite past-times anyway.

Hardison felt more trepidation before going in than he feels now, standing before the mark. He has Sophie's calm voice in his ear coaching him. He has Nate's mind spinning all the possible outcomes every second of the way. He has… Well no, he _doesn't_ have Parker on standby to pick locks or rappel him away, but he has her stupid texts from the chocolate festival making him feel warm inside. He has Eliot, right outside, to pull him out if anything happens.

It makes him feel safe.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Hi everyone! So, last chapter was short and unfortunately so is this one. Some episodes just speak to me more than others, I guess. The upcoming ones after this will be longer though, I promise.

For now; a missing scene for 4.9 – The Cross My Heart Job.

.oOo.

"We are naked; we steal clothes. That's what we do." Nate says, before he sends Parker and Eliot out to get them what they need. Parker finds it to be an expression she likes, probably because it involves stealing things.

"He's better," Parker says to Eliot who's walking by her side through the airport. She knows time is of an essence here and she shouldn't be wasting it, but there's still a minute before they reach the stalls and the fun starts.

"Who's better?" Eliot asks. "At what?"

"Nate, stupid." Parker still hasn't quite gotten used to how much she needs to explain for other people to follow her train of thought. "He's still, you know, _Nate_. But he listens better now. I like that. It makes us feel more like a team again."

They're at the point where they should split up. 83 minutes and about 24 seconds is all that's left before the (literal) deadline for the heart. Parker still stops to let Eliot answer; a few seconds won't change the outcome either way.

"Yeah," Eliot says. Parker has a whole list of interpretations to the way he grumbles, and this is the annoyed-thoughtful kind.

"And now it's a kid, and he's not exactly good, but still better. I just think we should make sure to see that." Eliot doesn't look like he's getting what Parker's trying to say so she tries to clarify. "That means he's trying. For us. Because he wants us."

She sees the small smile her statement tricks Eliot's lips into forming and smiles back at him before she turns away and sets off towards one end of the small shopping section. First chance she gets she'll make sure Hardison knows this as well. Something that makes her feel light inside the way this does must be meant for sharing. The feeling is only stronger after she explained its source to one person, and that speaks for telling _at least_ one more, possibly two.

First she's going to celebrate by stealing things though, and it's not much of a challenge but at least it's a small one. After all she's naked, and she needs to find clothes for herself before she finds them for Hardison.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Missing scene set at the end of 4.10 – The Queen's Gambit Job.

Shout out to anyone who's given me feedback after the last chapter: Thank you so much! You are amazing!

.oOo.

"Eliot, what happened to your hands?" Parker asks, her head pushed in between the front seats. She's close enough for her hair to tickle against Hardison's neck and cheek. For a second his heart stutters and he wants to turn away from the road even if he's driving, gravitate to her, and… But her head is turned the other way, toward the passenger seat.

In the corner of his eye Hardison sees Eliot turn his palms up. Red, angry, lines are traversing them in several places. With Parker's head in the way Hardison couldn't see Eliot's face even if he tried so he doesn't. He listens instead. "Must've cut them breaking out of the server room." Eliot says, like he hasn't noticed it.

"I taught you how to pick locks." Parker sounds almost disappointed, as if Eliot not using the knowledge she's shared is a deliberate criticism. They tangent off in a conversation about digital locks and ways to breach doors that Hardison should find interest in but doesn't.

This job has been good. Great. Amazing. Neither Sterling nor the failed attempt to steal the weight make a noticeable dent in the pile of awesome this job has been. Because Parker. Simple as that. Only now Hardison is starting to notice there's a part in the back of his mind that doesn't quite fit in. Something back there rubs against everything else a little bit awkwardly and it's starting to chafe.

The feeling was brought to his attention by Parker's question. She's broken the rule about Eliot's injuries, and maybe that is it? But no. Rather the fact that she only mentioned this injury in particular, the one that stood out for the single reason it was not from fighting.

From the conversation going on around him Hardison has picked out that Eliot broke something metal from a server rack and used it to bust the hinges of the door. That seems like part of what's chafing. In the time it takes the traffic light in front of him to cycle from red through yellow to green Hardison's mind has smoothly run diagnostics with the new variable as a base. As he hits the gas the shape of the area bothering him is well defined.

When Hardison met Eliot in the entrance of the Skyspire the man had hugged him. Hugged. Eliot had hugged him.

Before Hardison had time to respond with more than the lightest hand on Eliot's back the other man had pulled away, telling _Hardison_ to stop. As if he'd been the one to instigate the contact from the start.

At the time Hardison had been too caught up in everything else. He hadn't been thinking about their interaction; about if there had been anything more than anger in Eliot's anger. It's impossible to know for sure in retrospect.

Combine it with this new knowledge, the broken skin in Eliot's palms from forcing his way out of a locked server room. Yes, Hardison can see why it chafes.

It isn't until the airport that Hardison finds the opportunity to follow up on his train of thought. They've been in a mad scramble of picking up their things, erasing evidence of them ever being in the country, and coordinating with Nate who's still in a cab stuck in traffic somewhere. That's what he gets from chasing Sterling across town in a stolen car, trekking a couple of blocks away from the dumpsite, and fighting to find a cab; late. It's his own damn fault if he misses the flight, Hardison is not coming to save him.

They haven't taken more than three steps on the stone floor of the terminal before Parker is beelining for chocolates. She walks like gravity is lower than its regular g, practically bouncing of the floor. Sophie speaks of tea and follows her. If the timing is a little suspicious Hardison won't call her out on it.

"Tell me you didn't book me a seat right next to her?" Eliot says. Even if there's technically two women who just left them it's clear who he means. Parker is still high from her base jump, and with added sugar she's going to be a nightmare.

"Eh…" Hardison tries to evade. All their seats are booked in different reservations, but together.

"Dammit Hardison!" Eliot says.

"Fixing it as we speak." Hardison gestures to the phone in his hand as he easily rearranges some people to strategically put Parker and him in a corner away from the others. He can live with that.

Once Hardison's finished he plays with the phone a few more moments, buying himself time. He knows he needs to bring this up now, before the others come back and it will be too late. Hardison looks up at Eliot, over to where the girls disappeared, back at Eliot. "What?" The hitter questions.

"I was just thinking…" Hardison says. He takes a breath and then dives straight in. "Just, Sterling drugged you, and locked you up, and I knew he was a bastard but not how big of a bastard, and he should have told us instead of playing us, that was not any kind of kosher, and I…" Rambling, Hardison knows, comes naturally to him. It's not something he's proud of, but he can't help himself. "Are you okay?" He finally asks.

The pause before Eliot answers is a fraction of a second too long.

"I'm fine," Eliot says and Hardison realizes that not long ago he'd have believed it to be true. Since then he has learnt stuff about how to read Eliot. If the statement is not an outright lie it's at least an exaggeration.

"Okay," Hardison answers. "So, not really fine but doesn't want to talk about it. I can work with that." He gives Eliot a short opening to refute the statement but when it's not immediately used he keeps going like it was never there. "You think Nate's gonna make the flight?"

It doesn't matter what Eliot answers, Hardison knows he'll take the other side for the sake of the argument.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I couldn't update yesterday due to issues with the log-in page, but it's working now. Next chapter should come up during the week.

This was supposed to be a missing scene for s04e11 – The Experimental Job, but sort of ended up four missing scenes. Basically, it's Eliot meeting up with each member of the team during and after his imprisonment in this episode. Enjoy!

.oOo.

Eliot knows Parker is coming. He's heard them planning over the comms, heard her enter the other cells. It's all he's able to do; wait and listen to what the others are doing. In the hours when the con is inactive the cell feels boring and empty.

"These locks are just ridiculous." Parker says as she steps into Eliot's cell. "Anyone could pick these locks, with a popsicle stick." She sounds genuinely angry at this lack of oversight.

"Doesn't matter." Eliot tries and fails to keep his teeth from clattering noticeably. "The doors are mostly frame, cardboard, and insulation. Unlocking them isn't needed if you want out." He gets a heavy coat on top of his blanket. It only helps marginally.

"So why don't you leave? Or you know, the others, who's not here working a case?" Parker rubs her hands up and down her upper arms. "It's _really_ cold in here."

Eliot unwraps a corner of his blanket and invites Parker to sit next to him. It's a stupid thing to do. She should get out of here before someone finds her, but it's nice to have company and a conversation that's not about his past.

"You know how they only give you your money if you stay the whole time?" Eliot starts explaining to her as she sits down. "And then carefully avoid telling you how long that is?" She nods. "It pushes people into the sunk cost fallacy."

"What is that?" Parker asks. The heat of her body radiates against Eliot's side and he feels marginally less cold and exponentially more tired.

"It's a logical error where you've invested in something and therefore keep investing even if it's stupid. Like here; they tell the vets they'll get money if they stay throughout the experiment. It makes them think: 'Okay, how bad can it be?' When it turns out it's really bad they won't wanna quit, or they feel they went through everything so far for nothing. Exploiting that means this place doesn't need proper locks or sturdy doors, no one will try to leave."

"I hate mind games." Parker says, and Eliot can't help but agree. What they're doing here is a particularly disgusting way of trapping people. Tricking people into believing what's done to them is their own responsibility is a cruel thing to do.

Silence falls, but it's comfortable. Eliot is still shivering from the cold. The thin cotton uniform combined with the exhaustion make it hard to do anything else. With Parker as a human radiator next to him he might be able to get a powernap.

"Does it get to you?" Parker says, disrupting Eliot's plan. It's probably just as well since she needs to get going soon. They don't keep regular hours here, trying to mess up the prisoners' sense of time. "All of this, does it get to you?" Eliot must have been silent for too long if she's repeating the question. He really is tired.

"Nah," Eliot tells her. "I'm bored out of my mind and wishing they'd let me sleep, but this isn't real." He looks at Parker who arranges her eyebrows into a question. "It's not," Eliot clarifies, "and it's not only the crappy doors. None of this is for real. Only the people here, they don't know the difference."

While not admitting to it outright Eliot knows he just told his team he's been through the real version of this. Parker might be the only one sitting beside him, but they're on comms. He doubts it's new information for any of them anyway.

Parker nods and hums before speaking again. "He said you are here to punish yourself." She doesn't pitch it as a question.

"He's wrong," Eliot answers anyway. "I am many things Parker, but _not_ self-destructive." He says it with more force than might be necessary but it's important that she gets this. She can't be allowed to wonder if he goes into jobs looking to get hurt or injured. That is not the case.

"Good," Parker says and smiles. "I thought so." If her tone is a little bit too light and overly casual it's to be expected from her in these situations. "I should go now, before someone comes down here."

Parker slips out from the blanket, bringing a wave of cold air into Eliot's hiding place. Relaxing through the shivers make the cold hurt less, but it's exhausting to be shaking. Only a few days separates him from his hot shower, his warm bed, and real food, but he wouldn't mind either of them now. Preferably all three. Someone needs to keep an eye out down here though, and it sure as hell ain't going to be one of the others.

.oOo.

Checking in with Nate after a job has always been easy, it's one of the things Eliot likes about him. Nate just looks at him, question all in his eyes, and Eliot simply nods in response. No need for discussions or finer points, simply 'yes, I'm okay' and they're done. It feels like Nate's way of acknowledging Eliot's professional integrity.

At the end of this job - as Nate drops of props for the fake police station - the procedure is the same, even if the potential injuries would be of a different kind. Eliot's answer is the same as always, no lasting damages to expect. Nate's nods back, message received. Done.

.oOo.

"Nice outfit," detective Grayson tells Eliot as she steps into the room, Sophie at her side. "Beige's really not your color though." She smiles at him, clearly joking. Eliot shrugs but puts finding out where they put his clothes higher on his to-do-list.

"You'll need to find someone else to dock for the fashion-offense detective, I was coerced." He smiles and plays nice. She's not a part of the team, which calls for certain courtesies to be upheld. Had she been someone else he could have deflected by offering to take them off, but he feels that might turn out badly in present company.

"I'll use anything at this point." Eliot can hear the frustration in her words. "I sure hope your plan here works."

"It will," Sophie says. The calm and confidence she radiates settles Grayson easily. Eliot will always admire what she can achieve with nothing but a small gesture and the right word. "Could you give us a minute?" Sophie continues, and the detective nods before stepping out into the hallway.

Eliot knows what's coming. His conversation with Parker made it clear that nothing said between him and the interrogator had been missed by his team. Not that he ever thought it would. Now they apparently all feel obligated to check up on him. It's annoying.

"That was some impressive work with the interrogator. You obviously spooked him." Sophie starts, and it is not at all what Eliot expected. He wants to know where she's going with this.

"He had no clue what he was getting in to." Eliot says.

"Still though," Sophie leaves a short silence before she starts up again. "I happen to know all the best grifts are based on something true." And there it is, the subject Eliot's been waiting for. He has no idea why they all see the need to do this separately. The upside on being on comms with Parker should have been no more conversations like this, yet here he is. And still on comms too.

"What is the actual question here Sophie?" Eliot can hear the tiredness in his own voice, but this is Sophie, so it's okay.

"Even if this wasn't real, there's been other times and other places where it has been. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We all have things we don't talk about." Nowhere is there any sign of a question, Eliot can't help but notice. He wonders when she'll get to the point. "But, you know," she continues, "I just need to know if you're alright?"

"Goddamn roundabout way of asking that huh?" Because Eliot says it to Sophie it's less abrasive than it would have been to anyone else. He wonders if she's reconditioned him nicer on purpose or if it's just a side effect of her own manners. "I'm alright, okay? I'm tired, I want to get this over with and go home, but apart from that I'm fine." She looks at him for a few moments, finding whatever confirmation she's looking for.

There's no point in lying to Sophie. She reads people so well Eliot sometimes feels like she can read his mind. He is surprisingly okay with that. The fact that she's impossible to lie to doesn't mean Eliot have to be entirely truthful either, and he can work with that. He can say he's 'alright', or 'fine', and that's not a lie. There's no need to pick a word that he's not as sure he can live up to, like 'good'.

 _You ever count'em?_ The question still lingers in Eliot's head. Like an echo that won't stop bouncing. Every now and then it warps into his answer. _No, no I haven't counted. I don't need to._

Fact is, Eliot couldn't count them even if he wanted to.

He remembers a few names and dates, and a lot of locations. There are more than one pair of eyes looking at him in the dark sometimes, terrified or angry or defiant or resigned. He almost never remembers their colors but can sometime connect them to their respective faces. The ones that obviously didn't deserve it, the family members or innocent bystanders? He remembers most of those at least, far clearer than he would prefer. Especially the children.

There's a lot of begging to remember, but not everyone of those people died. At least not by Eliot's hands. He's not sure if that makes it any better.

Yet all those details will never add up to a number. Eliot can't tell if any pair of eyes match one of the locations. He has no idea if the man with aioli on his breath went by one of the names.

Many years have passed since Eliot could have given as much as a ballpark. Years where killing became so mundane it often didn't even register. Even rough estimates are far behind him now. Eliot wonders if he's lucky to not know the number or if it's just another testament to how fucked up he is.

Something must have shown in his face because Sophie's eyes on him sharpens. "The people we were never quite leave us, do they?" She says, and Eliot is everlastingly grateful she doesn't call him out on whatever she sees.

"Don't you have a prisoner to take care of?" Eliot answers, marking their conversation as done.

"I believe I do, don't I?" Sophie smiles at him and places a hand on his arm for a second before leaving. It's strange how she can make that feel natural and calming, but she's good at what she does. Eliot allows himself a short moment before following her out into the corridor.

.oOo.

"Jesus woman," Hardison hisses from the passenger seat, "watch how you drive!" They're on their way back to the office with Parker chauffeuring, taking the chance to get a fresh change of clothes while Travis is interrogated by Sophie and Grayson. The fact that they deemed Eliot unfit to drive himself is highly annoying.

Parker slows down slightly and Hardison twists around as much as he can to look at Eliot. "How do you do this man?" He asks. "It _hurts_."

Eliot can't think of a single good way to respond where he doesn't either downplay Hardison's pain or reveal things about himself he'd rather not. "I try to not go down." He says instead.

"Wow, thanks man. Great advice, why didn't I think of that?" Hardison's irony is razor sharp and Eliot slowly releases the breath he's holding.

"Dammit Hardison, it's not like there's some secret trick, alright? Places like my knuckles and elbows are hardened by use, okay? I've got more muscle mass than you to absorb the punches with and more experience in how to best lessen the impact. It's not something you could just read about and then know, and it's not really something you want to train for since it means taking hit after hit after hit." Eliot glares at Hardison and the man backs down.

"Okay, sorry." Hardison says, and Eliot would feel bad if he had the energy. He doesn't. "What now though? Do you think I have broken ribs? What should I do now?"

It's Parker who answers. "You heard them crack?" She asks and Hardison blinks at her before shifting to include both Parker and Eliot in his view.

"Eh, no? But I was laying curled up on the floor being kicked at and wasn't really listening, you know? Kicking breaks ribs though, right?" Eliot stops himself from rubbing a hand across his eyes.

"They do, but…" Eliot breaks off before he says more than he means to. Unfortunately, Hardison catches the possibly continuation and gestures for him to carry on. There's nothing to do but give in. "…but those guys were normal people, and normal people unconsciously checks their punches against someone who they perceive to be defenseless. Regular folks have barriers in situations like that."

Before either of them gets a chance to comment on that Eliot steers the conversation past it. "Take a deep breath, as deep as you can," he tells Hardison. "Hold it, then let it out slowly." Eliot's instructions are followed. From how much Hardison's ribcage expands he knows the answer to his next question before he asks it. "From one to ten, how bad?"

"Five?" Hardison says it like he doesn't really know. Or is unsure if this is the part he should respond to.

"Yeah, you should be fine," Eliot tells him. "It would hurt a lot more if anything was broken."

Parker cuts in then, telling them a story of when she fell two stories, broke three ribs, and got a cold from walking home in the rain. At first Eliot is immensely grateful for the distraction but when they reach the office without Hardison having forced him to talk about his time in 'prison' Eliot's getting antsy.

Out of all of them, Eliot figures Hardison will be the hardest. Parker is a lot like Eliot, which makes her, if not uncomplicated, so at least understandable. Sometimes. Other times she's so strange in her ways to deal with things Eliot remains oblivious to what's going on. He can handle with that. Nate is Nate and they have their system, easy enough. Sophie, while she can poke and prod at things, does it with finesse and a measure of self-restraint.

Unlike Parker, Hardison is soft. He also still believes there's such a thing as right or wrong, good or bad. It's a unique kind of innocence in their line of work. Unlike Nate, Hardison needs his answers out loud, and calls bullshit when he doesn't like them. Unlike Sophie, Hardison pushes. He also lacks her ability to weave calmness around him, and her walls.

Sophie's walls might as well be a tank for how impenetrable they are, but the rest of them are not far behind. Except for Hardison. Hardison fell faster, trusts easier, and cares harder than anyone else on their team. Not that Eliot hasn't fallen for this family or theirs, and he trusts them and cares for them more than he ever thought possible. He's just too broken and bent to do it as well as Hardison. Just seeing how committed he's become to them scares the shit out of Eliot. Things like that doesn't seem to scare Hardison at all.

Waiting for unpleasant things was never Eliot's strong suit, so when Parker stays in the kitchen for cereals he turns to Hardison the moment she's out of sight. "Can we just get this out of the way?" Eliot asks.

"Eh, what?" Hardison says, and Eliot wonders if he accidently spoke in Hebrew of something.

"The part where I have to assure you that I'm fine." Eliot can hear the exasperation in his own voice more clearly than he can feel it. For a second he thinks about missing Travis' planned arrest and go home to sleep instead, but he knows he won't.

"Oh," Hardison says, his eyes widening for a second. "Did you want me to ask? Because I heard you talking to Parker yesterday, and Sophie today, and I figured you didn't want more questions. Besides I've already heard the answers, haven't I? Unless you planned on giving me another one?" Eliot thinks Hardison might literally bite down on his own tongue to stop more words from spilling out.

A moment pass as Eliot tries and fails to formulate an answer. The turn of events sinks to slowly into his brain. "Dammit Hardison, I…" Eliot shakes his head. "No," he finally says, remembering the questions. "I didn't want you to ask, and no, my answer to you wouldn't be any different." He feels slightly stupid for not figuring Hardison's silence out earlier.

"Okay, good," Hardison smiles at him.

Eliot can't believe it turned out this easy.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Long time no post. I'm not doing great at the moment, so I haven't been able to find the energy to do much of anything. It's incredibly frustrating not being able to write - it's an amazing escape from reality and I've got lots of ideas to work with - but it's just the way life is right now. At least all the chapters for this work are done and only needs re-reading and posting, so I'll get them up eventually. Hopefully I can get back on posting on schedule, but no promises will be made at this point.

This chapter is a missing scene for s04e12 - The Office Job. There is nothing okay with the way Parker is treated in that episode, so I've been waiting for the chance to give her some restitution.

Thank you for being out there, reading this. Knowing you guys exist and are reading my works helps pushing me to write, which I need. You are my angels 3

.oOo.

"No! I'm not coming back inside. You can't make me."

Parker hears her name in four voices over the comms. Tired, angry, exasperated, worried. Neither of them can convince her to move from her hiding place.

"Parker, what is this about?" It's Sophie's voice, alone, trying for reason. They must have gotten within sight of each other by now since they're no longer talking over one another. She wonders if there's a camera in the room with them. If he is.

"I've already told you, lots of times, you just don't care." The betrayal she feels about that makes her throat feel thick but she's not going to cry.

"Parker," Eliot says, and she hates how they all feel the need to start with her name. Like she is the problem here. "You haven't…"

"Yes, Eliot, I have!" The words come out harsh. Probably since she feels like there's a strong wind stealing the air she's supposed to be breathing. "And all of you just laugh, or tell me it's nothing, or that he's just being silly, or that I should _use_ it to keep focus off you." Parker takes a breath. Lets it out slowly. "I hate it," she says, and her voice feels small. "He keeps touching me, and following me around, cornering me to force me to touch _him_ to get away. And all of it is on camera. Just because it's with clothes on it shouldn't be okay. It's not something _I_ laugh at."

There's silence on the comms now. Not the kind of silence of no one transmitting, but of all of them being there and not speaking. Parker thinks of the silence from the social worker after she'd told her the new foster father liked sitting right next to her on the couch, with his heavy arm over her shoulders to keep her from leaving. That he liked hugging her very close when she was in her pajamas and kept calling her pretty and touching her hair. _But he hasn't done anything inappropriate?_ The social worker had said. Like Parker should be happy an unknown man wanted to touch her. (Not much later she said almost exactly that, only with different words.) Two days later Parker ran away for the last time, never setting her foot in the system again.

"Parker," Nate starts with her name as well. She can hear from his tone he's trying to placate her. "You…"

"No," Parker cuts him off. "I don't have to do anything. I'm not doing this."

"I was going to say," Nate's tone leaves no room for further interruption, "that you're right. We've been stupid and ignorant and distracted by less important things. I'm sorry about that."

"Oh," Parker manages. Instead of feeling better from his words she feels worse. Like without the anger it's harder not to feel sad.

"We're all sorry Parker." Sophie says. "We should have known better."

"Now, I'm sending Hardison and Eliot out to you." Parker can hear Nate looking at them, gesturing with his head. She knows none of that makes a sound, but it's in his voice. "If you decide you want to come back inside one of us will be with you at all times, okay? We'll make sure to keep him away from you."

"Okay." Parker focuses on breaking a small twig in as many pieces as possible. She will not cry.

"Where are you girl?" Hardison says. His voice is softer than usual, and Parker thinks maybe she can get a hug when he gets here. If she wants one. She thinks she does.

Parker never answers Hardison's question. She knows she should, but she can't make herself do it. Hardison can track her, so it shouldn't matter.

"Okay, I'll find you." Hardison probably already has his phone in his hand because not thirty seconds later Eliot speaks.

"We're on our way." He says.

Parker closes her eyes and leans back against the three trunk she's sitting by. They're on their way, and they're sorry, and maybe this can end differently than it did back then. She doesn't have to run if she's got people making sure she's safe.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: A little bit off schedule, but at least I'm back with the next tag. This is a missing scene for The Girl's Night Out Job (s04e13). It's not great but it is what it is, and that's the reason I'm not planning on making myself write tags for every episode of season 5.

Next chapter will need some serious beta before I can publish, so when it's late it's not my fault for once but rather the access to time with my beta. I'll be around as soon as we manage.

Thanks a lot for all the response to my work in the last week. It's meant a lot and even got me writing a bit again, which is great.

.oOo.

"Let go off me! You are not my friend, and you're not allowed to touch me." Peggy stabs a finger at Parker. Behind her she hears Mattingly putting pressure on the waiter but not even the threat of a bomb lessens the impact of Peggy's words.

Alice isn't Parker, no matter how her team tries to tell her otherwise, but Parker is Alice. It's an important distinction she's not sure the others understand. Alice is all the parts of Parker that can pass as normal, and it's been nice to have a friend for those parts. A place where Parker can pretend all the bad things in her life never happened and that she's _just_ Alice.

"Peggy," Parker says, without letting her go. "I'm sorry, okay? But he was not who he said he was and I didn't want him to use or hurt you."

"How did you know that?" Peggy's eyes sharpen and she stops struggling momentarily to stare at Parker.

"I had someone run a background check, he had a record." Not until she says it does Parker realize it might not be something Alice would do. "You told me to check him out." Parker adds, preemptively on the defense.

To Parker's surprise Peggy starts to laugh. She has no idea what to make of that. "You had someone run _a background check_ on my date?" Peggy repeats.

"Yes," Parker confirms, "and now there's a bomb so you need to get out of here. Right now." Peggy's eyes go big on that. Bombs probably hasn't figured a lot in her life.

"He says it's in one of the service carts," Mattingly provides. Parker relays the information to Sophie and Tara before turning back to Peggy.

"You. Out. Now." Parker says, making it clear it's an order. A small shove sets Peggy on her way, still half laughing and with that shocked expression on her face. There might have been a gentler way to do this, but Parker can't think of it and time is of an essence. They've got a bomb to find.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Finally, a new chapter! We're at 4.14 – The Boy's Night Out Job, and this is a character study for Hardison.

.oOo.

Growing up had been a lonely business for Hardison. Before Nana there'd been too much sickness at home for him to really be able to fit in with the other kids. Something about his unkept clothes and silence tipped them off that he was different, and they'd kept their distance. No one had been outright mean to him, but no one had been his friend either. His mama had loved him fiercely though, and he still remembers her warm hugs and her fingers in his hair.

Nana came right after the emergency home, and Hardison will always be grateful for her. Her hugs were neither as warm nor as common as his mama's had been, but she was good and loving and made sure they all had a family with her. At thirteen Hardison had been the youngest. Most of the other kids came later or only stayed for a year while their parents straightened themselves out. It made for a lot of changes in foster-siblings, but Nana was (and still is) constant.

Once Hardison started hacking for real the only place he felt he could be all of himself was online. It's not like he could tell people who knew who he was exactly what he did during the nights by the screen. He became used to the selective anonymity of an avatar and the way that let him be whoever he felt like. Some gamers have a harsh unforgiving attitude, but there was a lot of people like him once he figured out how to find them. Problem is, hugs through a computer is nothing but words and the people he liked the most were all over the world instead of right next to him.

The team was supposed to be a one time gig, and Hardison was ecstatic when it turned out to be more. His teammates were crazy in a terrifying way, but he instantly liked them. It was a chance to be himself with real people. For once he was in the same room with human beings who knew exactly what he did and didn't judge him for it. He's sure none of them has yet understood how momentous that was for him.

Unfortunately, none of them really do hugs. There are fist bumps at least, and shoves, and cramming into sofas or cars, and all the other little ways that you touch people you trust and like. They are friends and family and coworkers, all rolled into one. Hardison can't believe he's this lucky.

What they have isn't conventional in any way. None of them are what could be called well-adjusted, normal people and their lives reflect that. Sometimes he can't help but wonder what people see when they look at the team and its members. He has a feeling very few outsiders can even begin to understand them.

They're not broken, Hardison knows. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, Hardison _knows_ none of his family members are broken. They're a little worse for wear, banged up and in many cases needing more TLC than they'll accept but they're not defective. Hardison will probably never be able to convince his team mates of this, and that's all good. What they'll _need_ to understand though is that there's a place for them just the way they are, and it's right by his side.

If someone had told Hardison beforehand that he'd find the fastest friendship in Eliot he'd have laughed at them. Eliot's the quarterback to Hardison's too-nerdy-for-even-computer-club and that's not something that should work out. It does. Yet more than four years later it's clear that there's more to Eliot than he lets anyone see. Some of the man's scars run like ravines between them that Hardison's bridging as best he can.

Nate and Sophie have been the hardest, their shared history and Nate's initial reluctance to see himself as a criminal putting them slightly apart from the others. The two of them take the roles of something like mentors, and while Hardison appreciates that, he's still trying to even out the power imbalance that comes with Nate being their leader and Sophie being his girl. He thinks he's doing okay.

Parker is Parker, and what Hardison wants from her is fundamentally different from what he wants from the others. Hardison wants Parker in his bed. Not in the way people think just because he's a guy. He wants Parker at his side as he falls asleep in the night, and her face next to his in the morning. The other stuff they can do in bed is, well, definitely bonuses, but mostly he just wants her there with him. Because Parker is amazing, and she makes Hardison feel amazing, and he wants her close for the rest of their lives. There simply aren't words to make it justice.

The time in Dubai had been different, a taste of what they might have. Parker had trusted him, and they'd taken huge steps forward. For a little while Hardison had thought this was it, that the scale would finally tip over. Instead it tipped back again and left them in the same spot they've been for months now. Hardison wishes he understood why.

Some part of Parker seems to glue them to this position they are in now. More than friends, not dating, less than a couple. Hardison fears pushing might prove catastrophic, so he doesn't. No matter what Eliot says about him needing to be more assertive, Hardison doesn't think that's it. Parker knows what he wants. In fact, he's sure Parker wants it too. Whatever it is that's holding her back, Hardison wants to let her figure it out in her own time. What they have today is too precious to risk. At least not yet. It won't be enough forever, but it can be for now.

After talking to Nate, Hardison takes his place by Parker's side. Only the bar separates them, and he feels the night's worries wash away. She might have spent her evening with a frightfully handsome thief but the smile she gives Hardison tells him she's glad to be home. A fizziness, like he's been carbonated, tingles through Hardison from their proximity, her happiness, and the way she looks at him. He can't believe he was worried in the first place.

Waiting for Parker is not necessarily easy, but he's very sure it is worth it.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Well, better late than never I guess. It took some time getting this betaed, but on the upside I got all the last four chapters at once, so it should be pretty quick updating form here. This is just a short character study on Eliot during The Lonely Hearts Job (s04e15). Thanks to anyone who's read this far!

.oOo.

"You don't even bother to learn their names," Sophie says. It hurts more than it should. Eliot knows she's in a heated discussion with Nate and that the comment is not meant as harshly as it comes out. She still says it, believes it most likely, and Eliot can't come up with a single good way of answering that. He deflects by calling her out on using the word stewardess and is happy when Parker shows up and the conversation moves on.

Eliot is aware he's seen as a "love'em and leave'em" kind of guy, although in reality there's very little love and quite a lot of leaving these days. He's not interested in any kind of lasting relationship, and he makes sure to hook up with girls who feel the same. It's better that way, safer.

From experience Eliot knows that it doesn't end well when he commits himself to a relationship. It didn't with Aimee and that was a luckier ending than some. Eliot's profession simply doesn't go with the kind of commitment a significant other deserves, nor with the kind of openness required. People as brutal as him shouldn't get too close to other people.

If he let himself, Eliot's sure he could be good at the romance thing. He can imagine himself cooking three course meals for a future wife, lightening candles, setting up dates and sending gifts. The fact that he doesn't think he'll ever find a person to do any of that for is not exactly a happy thought. Instead it's a practical acknowledgement of the way things are. When you've killed people in as many ways as Eliot has, you don't let your guard down with anyone present. You're too dangerous for that.

Some part of the comment and the job they're on grabs onto Eliot in an uncomfortable, strangling way. It nestles in his chest and make him feel nauseous. He _did_ bother to learn all their names though, even if the passing of time has made a few of them float together into a loose pile of letters.

Just to prove he can, Eliot buys flowers for Parker and Sophie when the job is done. He lets the credit fall to the others even if he knows Sophie at least will know where they're from. They're not his girls in that way, but he loves them without being _in_ _love_ with them, and maybe that can be reason enough.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: New day, new chapter: A missing scene for The Gold Job (s04e16). I'm honestly not that happy with this one, but I had to get past it to get to the end of the season. Hold out for the next one, it's not only longer but also better, I promise.

.oOo.

"Are you angry with us?" Parker sits down next to Hardison at the table back in the office. "For stealing the gold?" The small movements Hardison hadn't realized were happening all over the room cease simultaneously. They're all listening then.

The answer doesn't come to him immediately, he simply doesn't know. _Is_ he angry with them?

Obviously, they didn't trust his plan to work. That stings. If they thought it wouldn't work they could have told him so, right? He tried to make them speak their minds more than once. Someone could have suggested making stealing the gold their back-up and he'd have factored it in, wouldn't he?

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hardison finally says, figuring the question can only get an answer if it's vocalized.

Parker shrugs. "I don't know?" She's asking rather than telling, probably hoping Nate will give step in and answer. He doesn't.

Hardison sighs. Of course they'd all follow Nate's lead, even if that meant they were just pretending Hardison was in charge.

The worst part of it is that they were right. Hardison's carefully designed con had blown up in his face, and if they hadn't followed Nate, the whole job would have gone down with it. That's on Hardison, not any of the others. He's the one who failed here.

"No," Hardison finally says, knowing it to be true. "I'm not angry with you for stealing the gold." He's not going to let them know the only one he's angry with is himself. Angry and disappointed. "Wished you'd have told me though." It's an admittance of a little hurt, but they've deserved that since it _did_ hurt. "Next time; just tell me?"

"Sure, I promise, do you want to do that finger-thingy?" Parker looks at him innocently with her index-finger out and he knows she botched her reference on purpose. He takes the bait anyway and lets her lead them into a different subject.


	17. Chapter 17

AN: New chapter, and the second to last. This is one I really wanted to write, so it's been a carrot for me for quite some time. It's a missing scene set after The Radio Job (s04e17). I hope you enjoy it.

.oOo.

Parker's on the roof. Again. It's not a new habit, per se. She's always liked heights and the relative darkness of night in a city. The combination grounds her, which is ironic. Her feet and mind both reach for the top of the world when she needs a place to hide and figure things out. Only birds can look down on her here.

There is, however, a new fantasy that Parker's been entertaining in the last months. One that's less about hiding and more about being found. Where Hardison comes to find her. It always stops there. She has no idea how to imagine it after that part. That doesn't make her want it less.

If she took out her phone now, typed in a few letters and sent them to Hardison, he would be here. She's thought it before, but in this her normally reliable hands betray her. They won't even reach for the pocket.

They only made it home from Alexandria this afternoon, and Parker's ears are still ringing with Nate's phone call with his dad and Eliot screaming Nate's name before they knew he'd made it. It reminds her of Hardison being buried and makes it hard for her to breath. They almost lost Nate, and they almost lost Hardison, and she _will_ lose Hardison when she explain she doesn't want him in the right way.

Parker thinks about standing up, getting some equipment, and throwing herself over the ledge and into free falling. Making the pressure over her chest real with the whipping wind and press of a harness. Maybe she wouldn't feel so bad then.

She's stopped by the whiny sound of the door and steps coming her way.

With her eyes closed Parker can't be sure who it is until he slides down next to her and she feels the faint smell of Hardison's shower-perfume-whatever over the dusty city. She wonders if this is best or worst case scenario. "Hey girl," he says. Tiny scrapes and a displacement of air tells her he's leaning back against the wall next to her. They're breathing in little particles of each other's air and it makes Parker miserable.

Opening her eyes Parker lets her head fall to the right so she can see Hardison. He's close. She wants to put her head on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Hardison glances down at her.

Parker nods out of habit. She knows it's often a question not meant to be answered honestly. That's stupid, so she follows it up with a shrug. "I wish we'd found the time machine," she tells him.

"Any particular reason?" Parker shrugs again, then decides that okay, they _need_ to do this. Why not now? It's not like there will ever come good time to wreck everything.

"We could have saved Nate's dad," she says. They both know that's not the real reason, she was talking about the time machine well before that. Hardison doesn't call her out on it, but he doesn't speak either. Forcing her words with his silence. "And maybe I could have," Parker finds the breath she takes is shaking. "I could have gone back, and, I don't know, _fixed_ me, so we'd have a chance?"

Saying it hurts. Parker can't believe why anyone ever speaks of the bad things when it hurts this much. She's acutely aware of every beat of her heart and the way her jeans look as they stretch over her bent knees.

"Why would you need fixing?" Hardison says. There's something in his voice that Parker can't make out without looking at him, but she can't do that. He doesn't mention her admitting they don't have a chance, and that's terrifying in its own way. Has he known this for long? Has he given up on them?

"Because I don't _feel_ right." Letting it out doesn't release the pressure inside Parker one bit. She had thought it would. Instead it increases and she can feel tears pushing into her eyes. She looks to the sky in hope they'll run back down the tear ducts. They don't.

Hardison still hasn't spoken, and he is _not_ the silent kind, and everything is wrong, but Parker has started now and she is damn well going to finish. "I like you Hardison," she says, and she shouldn't be crying the first time she tells him that. Another thing to show how messed up she is. "I like you, and I want to be with you, but it's in the wrong way. I'm wrong, okay?" She can hear her voice, high and fast between her sobs but she doesn't give Hardison the chance to cut her off. Not now.

"I should be feeling all these things, but I'm not. I'm not! And I wish I could fix that, but I can't, and you deserve someone who wants you in all the _right_ ways. With clouds or butterflies or burning or passion or…" Parker stumbles as she wants and fails to find a version of the next word that she dares speak out loud.

"Can I touch you?" Hardison asks in the silence she created. It's not at all what Parker expected. When she nods he slides up right next to her and puts his arm around her shoulder. She thought it would be bad, but it isn't. Following some instinct Parker didn't think she had, she leans into the embrace. She finds a not wholly uncomfortable position with her head resting half on her drawn-up knees and half on Hardison's chest. His pulse is steady and slow even if he should be freaking out.

"I might need you to clarify this for me a bit," Hardison says. "That okay?" Parker nods against his chest, feeling stupid for not being able to stop crying. Hardison's never seen her cry before, only Eliot's seen that, but maybe both of them can be okay. The world didn't end last time. "You want to be with me?" Hardison asks, and it shouldn't be a surprise that's the piece of information he latches on to. " _With_ , with-me, like in more-than-friends with-me?"

Even though she shouldn't, Parker nods. She shouldn't give him false hopes, but they're having this conversation, and she can't lie. She wishes she could because she'd give every last bill she has, every single thing she owns, to be with Hardison. Except maybe Bunny, but he would never ask for Bunny anyway.

"But you don't want to have sex with me?" The words are blunt but Hardison's voice is soft and fuzzy. His heartbeat doesn't change at all as he asks the question. Parker shrugs since she had no idea if nodding or shaking her head means she confirms, and also doesn't know if she _can_ confirm it. "Do you want to do it with others?"

There's a thickness to Hardison's voice that make Parker twist a little so she can look up at him. He has a tension around his eyes, barely visible in the darkness, that she knows is worry. Straightening her back Parker makes sure to look at him as she answers. Hardison must understand that it's not him who's the problem here. "Not really," Parker shrugs. "I never think about it a lot, I've got other things to do."

"Okay," Hardison says. The worry-lines are still there, but his lips are reaching for a smile. "So, have you ever, uh…" He makes a small motion with his hand and Parker finds it a weird timing for modesty.

"Sure," she says. The practical turn of conversation has at least allowed her to stop crying, making speech easier. "A few times. It seemed like something you should have tried so I did, but…" It had mostly been awkward, not that Parker plans on telling Hardison any details.

"You didn't like it?"

"It was okay." No more, no less really. After three tries Parker had written it off as something normal people liked. She was never normal. "But…" The pressure's building up again, constricting her throat and pushing tears towards her eyes. So far, keeping them in is still possible. "If you're in love you should get ridiculous, and feel lots of attraction and stuff, and _really want_ to have sex, and that's not me. I don't think it'll ever be me. Maybe I can't fall in love."

Parker's crying again as her words run out. Because she really wants to fall in love with Hardison. Because she's so messed up she can't ever have that. Because they both deserve better.

"I can't tell you how you feel, but I think you're mistaken." Hardison's hand comes up to rest against Parker's chin, thumb spreading her tears in an even layer across her cheek. "I'm in love with you, okay?" Parker's heart stutters at Hardison's words. Whether in panic or hope she can't tell. "You know how I know that? Because several times every day, I find myself wondering what you'd think of something, or wanting to share something with you. Whenever I see you it makes me happy, and I want you as close to me as possible no matter what kind of day I'm having. When you have a good day I feel great, and if you don't I'd do anything to make you feel better again."

Hardison's words feels like breaking and being put together at the same time. The tiny thing that might be hope is casting a bleak light that mostly makes the shadows deeper with its contrast. Parker wants to hide her face but Hardison's hand coax her back into looking at him. She knows she must look ridiculous with tears and snot all over, eyes red and puffy, and the stupid expression people makes when they're crying. Hardison doesn't seem to care when he smiles at her.

"I have to admit," Hardison continues, "I do want to have sex with you, in some form. If and when you want it. But it's nowhere near the top of the list of things I think about when I think about you."

"I thought guys…" Parker starts, because she must object to something here and she has no idea what to say to the other parts.

"Yeah, _no_ ," Hardison cuts her off. "Some guys maybe, just like some girls? But most of us are not sex machines. Me, I want intimacy, and sex is a part of that, but there are many other things as well."

"Like what?" It comes out low and a little harsh, and Parker has to close her eyes as she says it. She doesn't dare to risk this horrible hope shining out through them.

"Hugging and kissing," Hardison tells her. "Cuddling, sleeping close to each other, showering together, things like that. Sometimes it can lead to sex, but it doesn't have to. It's not like every man walks around constantly turned on, we need a little work too you know." She can hear his smile.

The thing that's been crushing Parker's body is slowly losing force, leaving her feel untethered. Every word Hardison speaks washes something out of her and she feels herself go soft and pliant. Strangely enough she doesn't mind. Hardison will make sure she doesn't float away.

"I might be able to do that," Parker says. 'I might be able to love like that' is what she means, but she can't form those words, not yet. For now, she hopes Hardison hears them anyway.

All those things Hardison said, if that's what being in love is? Maybe Parker stands a chance then. Maybe _they_ stand a chance. It's a warm feeling. Less white-water rafting and more a steady river to float away on. It's not like the movies, but since when is her life like the movies anyway?

Opening her eyes Parker finds Hardison looking at her. She knows what she wants to do, just needs to take a moment to check it's not for some stupid, destructive reason. When she finds none, she decides to not overthink it. Leaning forward she kisses him. It's slow and steady like the flow in an airduct; a promise of home and safety. He tastes like freefalling and laughter. And orange soda.

.oOo.

AN: In a way this is the end of the season for me. I've got a piece for the last episode too of course, but it's more of a prequel to _Chili and Chocolate Pancakes_ in my mind. This is what I've been building up to for 17 chapters, and it was amazing to get to write it. Please let me know what you think.


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Oh my god, I'm posting the chapter for The Last Dam Job, the end of the season. It actually feels weird to not have this anymore, I've enjoyed it a lot. I don't plan on repeating this for the fifth season, but there's no way I'll be able to _not_ write something for The Rundown Job. In fact, I've already started it. Whenever it is done I'll post it, so keep your eyes open.

This last chapter is inspired by my story Chili and Chocolate Pancakes, and works as a prequel to that if you want to see it as such. It also stands on its own is you prefer that. Chili and Chocolate Pancakes is a crossover between Leverage and Lethal Weapon and I hope to be writing more crossovers between Leverage and various shows. Hopefully I'll get started on that soon enough.

Anyway, I'm rambling. What I want to say is: Thank you guys so much for sticking with me through this! You mean the world to me 3

.oOo.

Eliot Spencer's hand is shaking, the slight movement enhanced down the barrel of the gun. The whole world folds down around Quinn and becomes this singularity: Eliot Spencer's hand is shaking.

A detail, that's what it is. Not something to get hung up on. A piece of knowledge that gives Quinn an edge. At the same time; incomprehensible.

There's labeled boxes in Quinn's mind, slots where people are supposed to fit according to the order of the world. Spencer doesn't fit in any of them anymore, and maybe that's why this is impossible to look away from.

Years ago, before Quinn was hired by Sterling to take Spencer down, he had thought he had the guy neatly labeled. Spencer was one of the people in their field that everyone knew about, but no one seemed to know. He was a ghost, mentioned mostly in the gaps in stories, and bolstering no one believed in. He was a legend. Done with straight up wet work before Quinn even left the navy, but a retrieval expert few was willing to cross paths with.

It had been easy then to place him in the box named People to Look Out For, with an added note of Extra Caution.

After that Spencer has repeatedly turned around and found a shape impossible to fit in the boxes Quinn had placed him in. He went from the watchlist to an overconfident disappointment and then back in the original box again. Only the note had changed to Losing His Touch. Lately he'd moved himself to Employer, and a good one at that. Wasn't that an unexpected turn of events?

Until this moment Quinn has thought Eliot's strict rules about guns and killing has been about his team. They're obviously close, and they are the kind of people who'd frown upon leaving bodies behind. Now, with Sophie's shocked disbelief vibrating through the air between them, Quinn's beginning to understand he's gotten it all backwards.

About a year ago the grapevine had it that Damien Moreau sent guys to take out part of Eliot's team. _Fourteen_ guys. And then there were none. Only a burning warehouse and fourteen bodies with bullet holes. Anyone thinking of Eliot as semi-retired, Quinn included, had been forced to quickly reevaluate.

In cold blood, however, the iconic hands shake at the thought of killing. Quinn doesn't think Eliot would be able to pull the trigger even if he wanted to. It's a strange thought. Unsettling.

What does it mean for the rest of them; if even Eliot Spencer can grow a conscience?

There's relief on Sophie's face as Eliot fieldstrips the gun. Quinn is certain it's not from the fact that Dubenich is alive, but because Eliot didn't kill him. The distinction between the two is staggering.

Assassinations isn't really Quinn's thing, but he can't help but offer it anyway. The tension has passed, and he knows it will be rebuffed, but he means it when he tells Eliot to give him the gun next time. This job is more than well compensated, he wouldn't even charge them extra. Especially since Eliot recognizes his Tombstone quote.

It's a long time since Quinn felt as relaxed as he's done working with Eliot's crew. They celebrate their win with easy banter and high-fives. The sense of Eliot's shoulder next to his as they walk out alert Quinn to the fact that he's trusting the man. Enough to let him into his personal space without thinking about it. There's a sense of belonging stabbing at Quinn's abdomen with the realization that it ends here. Apart from a favor he doesn't intend to waste easily this is where their roads part.


End file.
